Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
"Now, tell me about your day. Did you finish the costumes?"
"Yes! So Joha wants to be a ghost. It was hard to find that many pale skins and I hated to cut holes in it for eyes and her horns, but it looks seriously cute. Joden's going to be a snow beast because he says it looks scary, and so I've been adding claws and more fur to the head part to make it look appropriately terrifying."
He smiles between sips of stew broth. "And Shae?"
I bite back a giggle. "Shae is going to be a not-potato. I stuffed her little tunic and made it look rounded and she has some pink stalks coming out of her shoulders. You should see it. It's adorable. I even modified one of my tunics and stuffed the center here." I rub my rounded pregnancy belly. "And I have a couple of stalks coming out of the side so it looks like I'm carrying another not-potato in me."
Haeden shakes his head. "This is the strangest hawl-day yet."
"It's just all silly fun. It's one of my favorites. I want to give the kids everything I didn't have growing up."
He leans over and brushes his lips against my brow. "I know. I am not mocking. I just do not understand the customs behind it. If it makes you happy, then I will enjoy it. If it makes the kits happy, I will enjoy it." He thinks for a moment, and then eyes me again. "Did you make me a costume?"
I gasp. "I didn't think you'd want to participate! I'm sure I can throw something together!"
"Make me a few stalks of the not-potato leaves. Perhaps I will be the Father Not-Potato to the smaller ones." He shrugs. "Might as well join in the strangeness."
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss the hell out of him because he really, really is the best.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
MADDIE
It's a pretty good celebration, I have to admit. I watch as Masan races around with the other boys in his costume. He's changed his mind four times before settling on being a mummy, just because he liked the idea of running around in nothing but bandages. He jumps onto Wrek's back, and the two go tumbling to the ground. "Mummy beats skyclaw!"
"Does not!" Wrek shrieks, flapping his feathered arms. "Skyclaw always wins!"
Calmly, Warrek walks towards the boys, pries them apart, and sets them on their feet. He tousles Masan's hair, pats his son on the head, and points them back toward the main celebration, where Stacy is setting up her cake walk.
"I have no idea how someone as quiet as Warrek made a child as loud as Wrek," I comment to Hassen for probably the millionth time. "Seriously. Every time I see him, I'm amazed."
"It is Suh-mer," my mate says easily, coming up behind me and slinging his arm over my shoulders to pull me close. "Her mouth is always moving."
Well, he's not wrong about that, either. Even so, I've got a soft spot for the shy ones. Summer reminds me of Lila sometimes and I catch myself defending her. "Summer just likes to talk and she gets nervous sometimes. It happens."
"Mmm. Is our son gone to the festivities? Can we have our own celebration now?" My mate presses kisses to the side of my head. "I think I would like to see you in no costume at all. No costume, no tunic, just bare, juicy teats."
His tail is curling around my thigh, and normally I'd be the first one to jump in bed now that we've got a reprieve, but it's the holiday. "I kinda want to see what Stacy's setting up for the cake walk. And what the prizes are."
Hassen nips at my ear. "If I win you a prize, will you reward me?"
I roll my eyes at him, amused, and pat his arm. "Babe, the prizes are for the kids."
"Bah. What do the adults do?"
"Enjoy the fun their kids are having? And isn't there a game later tonight? Football?"
"After the midday meal, yes. Which means we can hide in the furs together until then." His tongue teases at the shell of my ear.
My body tingles and I have to admit he's making a convincing argument. "Well...maybe just for a bit."
"I do not need long to make you quiver," he tells me with excitement, sliding a hand behind my knees and hauling me into the air, bridal-carry style.
By the time Hassen's made me come twice and we've cleaned ourselves up, drumming can be heard drifting through the village. My mate braids my hair off my face for me and we head out to the main lodge, where everyone is gathering. As we approach, I can see both kits and adults walking on the winding, circular path marked in chalk on the stone floors. It drifts around the edges of the steaming pool, circling it. One spot has been marked especially with lots of color and paint, and is in front of Drayan and Vadren, who sit with their drums and make a beat for us to enjoy. People walk along the path and the drumming speeds up, even as people linger on the marked spot. When the drumming abruptly stops, it's Nora's daughter Elsa on the special spot. She squeals with delight—her pale mane pulled into multiple tufts that stick out of her head like a crude Statue of Liberty—and races over to Kemli and Farli, who are manning the prize table.